


Burnout

by elderscrolls



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: AU, M/M, Modern magic AU, yes i stole this from wings of fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-09 16:16:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15271362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderscrolls/pseuds/elderscrolls
Summary: Caleb Widogast was, in his own definition, a freak. Fundamentally unlovable. Born with fire in his veins, he was destined to spend his days alone - burning everything and everyone he loved.





	1. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all. i have no explanation for the science / magic behind it i just saw an aesthetic post and remembered wof and was like hey. i can run with this
> 
> for those of you not familiar with wings of fire, its just like it sounds. the user has too much fire inside them and burns everything they touch. if you search firescales on the wiki it should pop up, altho obviously its different since theyre dragons
> 
> also ! if youve been following my other works (deathwish / i like it heavy) youll know ive been on hiatus while i was on an exchange trip to germany. more on that in the end notes (as well as other notes on this fic), but the gist of it is im back and ready to rub my grubby gay hands on every concept i can think of

Caleb Widogast was, in his own definition, a freak. Fundamentally unlovable. Born with fire in his veins, he was destined to spend his days alone - burning everything and everyone he loved. And on more than one occasion he had done so, lashing out because he _knew_ he could hurt. He had aligned himself with truly awful people, believing that maybe he could put his heinous ability to good use and help a noble cause. Of course, Trent Ikithon’s cause had been the polar opposite of noble, but he had been too blinded by his craving of acceptance to realize this.

Somehow, though, a ragtag group of people seemed to enjoy his company - weird, loud people who could be overwhelming at times but were more than happy to accommodate even his more off-putting symptoms. They didn't even mind the fire, although it had taken Jester several burns to register the fact that he was unhuggable no matter how many layers of clothes were between them. He was wracked with guilt every time he saw the scars, but she always waved him off, insisting that it had been worth it to try. That he deserved the effort.

How odd.

A loud sigh tugged itself from his lips as he stared down at his gloved hands. He had managed to figure out spells for fireproof clothing early on, but it only worked to an extent - stopping an immediate third degree burn. Like touching metal that the sun had been beating down on all day, it still hurt like hell, never mind what prolonged contact would do to anyone unlucky enough to take too long to remove their hand. Even tieflings, whose Infernal blood made them resistant to fire, found themselves with nasty burns.

At his sigh, Jester glanced over at him from where she was seated in the beanbag chair across from him. Her apartment was decorated with lush furniture, and yet she never seemed to actually _use_ it. “ _C_ _aleb,_  you're thinking too hard again,” she warned in her thick accent, pointedly glaring at his gloves and then looking back up at him.

Nott immediately hopped up from where she was sprawled out beside Caleb - despite stretching out as far as possible, she barely took up more than one seat cushion, which left plenty of space between them. “You are? Do you need Frumpkin?” She was already rummaging through her rucksack as she spoke, producing the orange tabby plushie that had been crafted from special fireproof materials specifically for him, after he had carelessly mentioned one day that he thought cats were rather cute.

Gods, what had he done to deserve such thoughtful friends?

“I am fine, thank you, Nott,” Caleb stated, accepting Frumpkin anyways. He hugged the stuffed animal close to his chest, relishing the feeling of the soft fake fur against him. The closest he'd ever get to the real thing.

“You can always talk to us, Caleb. You know that, right?” Fjord asked from where he lounged in a beanbag chair close to Jester’s, seemingly absentmindedly rubbing the stub of one of the tusks that should have protruded from his lower lip.

“Yeah, just make sure to let me know, so I can leave the room before everyone gets all sappy,” Beau remarked from where she sat upside-down on the couch, her legs against the wall and her topknot dangling off the bottom edge. This was followed by a hissed, “ow! I was kidding!” as Yasha, who sat beside her, gently elbowed her and received a thumbs-up from Fjord in response.

“What Beau means is we are all very happy to support you,” Yasha said in her soft, calming voice. Caleb always loved to hear her talk, even if she rarely did. It was soothing.

“Thank you, but really, I-I am fine.” What Caleb _really_ wanted to do was ask _why_ they were so happy to support him, _why_ they invited him to events when all he did was mope about or get overwhelmed and have to be calmed down before he spiraled into a full-blown panic attack. But every time he had done that in the past, he had received confusing reassurances of how he was actually a fun person to be around and how they refused to blame him for or be upset by things out of his control.

What an odd group of people.

“Well! Soon enough he _will_ be okay whether or not he lies and says he is, because _Molly_ is coming over today and he is, like, _super_ fun to play games with.”

Ah, yes, the accursed game night. While Caleb actually enjoyed them when he did come, it was _different_ with a stranger there. He had already taken so long to get used to these five people, and now one more was being added into the mix. Granted, this Molly guy appeared to have everyone's stamp of approval - excluding Nott's, but she was always wary of people - but still… that choking anxiety of _he'll hate me he'll think I'm awful and too sensitive and a freak and and and_ coursed through him. Vaguely, he registered the smell of smoke, and realized he had the arm of the couch in a death grip, beginning to sear through despite the fireproofing measures Jester had taken. He hurriedly released it with a hoarse “sorry,” and Jester was quick to reassure him.

“It's fine! Don't even _worry_ about it! If I minded things burning I wouldn't hang out with you and my mom is loaded anyway and she loves me so she would _definitely_ replace the couch for me if I asked,” the blue tiefling rambled as she strode over to beat the arm of the couch with her sleeve, taking out any last embers. Caleb wasn't really sure what her point was, but she didn't sound angry, so he relaxed a little.

A pleasant chime played through the large apartment, and Jester let out a squeal of “oh, he's here!” and dashed off towards the door. She returned dragging by the arm what had to be the most colorful person Caleb had ever seen in his life. A lavender tiefling with all sorts of jewelry in his horns, around his neck and wrists, weighing down his fingers. Curly plum hair framed his face, one probably strategically placed curl landing on his forehead, and were those fangs Caleb saw peeking out from under his upper lip? To top it off, he wore a deep v-neck paired with a coat that looked like as many different symbols as physically possible had been crammed onto it, and his loud boots clicked on the floor as he walked. Breathtakingly bright crimson eyes flickered around the room, and Caleb shrank when they landed on him.

“What’s up, fuckers?” The tiefling flashed the group a grin, easily ducking as Beau hurled what appeared to be a crumpled up piece of paper at him.

“This is going to be so much fun!” Jester bubbled, then pointed at Caleb. “You know everyone else, but Molly, this is Caleb, Caleb this is Molly.” At the end of the sentence, she pointed back at Molly.

“You didn't tell me your friend would be this handsome.” Molly winked at Caleb, and he felt - what the fuck did he feel? Confusion, definitely. The tiefling had to be joking, right? A cruel joke, but a joke? And yet, although there was a playfulness to his tone, he didn't seem at all repulsed by Caleb like most people generally were. “Nice to meet you,” The tiefling added, striding forward and extending a hand, his tail swirling through the thin layer of dust on the floor behind him. He retracted the hand just as quickly. “Oh, my bad! Jester told me you don't like being touched?”

Silently thanking Jester for not telling the truth, Caleb nodded. “ _J-ja_ , I, uh, am not the biggest fan.” He forced out a dry chuckle. “It is nice to meet you, too, though,” he added after a pause.

“Noted.” Molly gave him a genuine smile, before glancing around. “Mind if I sit next to you two? I'm pretty sure Beau will bite my head off if I sit by her.”

“Fuck yeah I will!” Beau called out helpfully.

“Of course. Go ahead.” Caleb shifted to create more room, and Nott pulled herself into a normal sitting position to free up the middle seat. Molly sat down with no hesitation.

“Nice cat.” He gestured at Frumpkin, and Caleb flushed red, glancing over Molly's face for any hint of sarcasm - he knew it was odd to be a fully grown man carrying around a stuffed animal, after all. But once more, Molly seemed completely sincere.

“Thank you. His name is Frumpkin.” Caleb turned his attention to the TV as he spoke, having to crane his neck slightly - only the beanbag chairs got the full view, since both couches were pushed to the side. Jester was currently setting it up for a game of Mario Kart. They had decided to do it tournament-style due to the sheer mass of players, drawing sticks with numbers written on them to see who the initial match-ups would be.

“What a fitting name.” Molly gave him another easy grin before also turning his attention to Jester, who had now picked up the bucket of popsicle sticks and was rattling it in front of Yasha.

“Two,” Yasha announced, setting the stick down beside her.

The selection proceeded as expected - Beau and Molly booed at each other as they were matched up, Jester and Nott exchanged solemn vows of damnation, and Fjord, Caleb, and Yasha all wished each other luck. They had ended up in a group of three due to the odd number of people, but none of them really minded.

The first match was Beau and Molly, and that went hellishly at first, with all of their shouting at each other. Molly seemed to pick up on Caleb's discomfort halfway through, though, and with a glance at the scruffy redhead lowered his death threats to a normal volume. Beau didn't appear to notice, though, and let out an extremely loud cackle as she slammed her car into Molly's and just barely finished the last lap before him.

Molly let out a good-natured groan, leaning back and letting his wheel dangle from one hand. “Next time.”

“That's what you've been saying for a year,” Beau shot back, still grinning triumphantly. She had shuffled into an upright position for the match, and was curled against Yasha at the moment.

“A _year_? My memory may be bad, but it's not _that_ bad, you know.” Molly was leaning forward again, and had he not seen the twinkle in the tiefling's eye, Caleb would have thought he was seriously angry.

“Obviously it is. You haven't beaten me since we met,” Beau was standing now, her hands on her hips. Before any more could happen, though, Jester bolted out of her seat and snatched away Beau's steering wheel.

“Argue later! It's time for me and Nott.” With that, she flopped back down onto the beanbag chair, already moving to the character selection screen. Molly, similarly, handed his controller over to Nott, before standing and stretching.

“You two have fun. I’m gonna go raid the kitchen.” With that, Molly sauntered off towards the kitchen. There was a few seconds of cupboards being yanked open and slammed shut before he called out, “Jester, dear, do you _ever_ eat anything besides pastries?”

“Go fuck yourself!” Jester shouted back, although Caleb honestly wasn't sure if that had been directed at Molly or Nott, who was quickly closing in on the blue tiefling.

Molly returned not long after with a bag of tortilla chips and a steaming jar of melted cheese, complete with a stack of small bowls that he set down on the coffee table with a clatter. Jester and Nott barely took notice, leaning forward and glaring at the screen. Jester's tail lashed behind her, occasionally smacking into Fjord, whose expression told Caleb he was used to this.

“Who wants some?” Molly asked, leaning forward and beginning to scoop the cheese into bowls. He set the first one aside for himself, then handed the second to Beau - after a moment of playfully yanking it away as she reached for it, then almost dropping it as she smacked his arm.

“What about you?” Molly asked Caleb, and Caleb shrugged.

“ _Ja,_ sure. I'll have some.”

Molly gave him a grin, as though this answer was immensely pleasing to him, before filling up the bowl and passing it to Caleb.

Caleb, in his haste to avoid contact, fumbled with the bowl, almost losing his grip before Molly's hands rested on his own to steady them. “Careful,” the tiefling warned, flashing him another fanged smile. Then the smile dropped as he clearly misread Caleb's expression, and he let go. “Oh, sorry. No physical contact. Right.”

“ _J-ja_ , yes, um, no worries. Thank you.” Caleb stammered out, his head spinning. What the fuck? Why hadn't Molly been burned? He had definitely been touching Caleb long enough, and yet there was no melting skin, no stench of burning flesh.

Just who _was_ this extravagant tiefling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to point out any errors, i edited what i could but its so late and ive gotten very little sleep. this will probably update irregularly, since i have no coherent plotline - it is a very fun au to write, though, so expect other fics / one-shots with the same concept
> 
> as for my other works, theyll be updated shortly ! i plan on talking more about my trip in those updates, which should be fairly soon - i have almost all of i like it heavy written out, i just need to sit down and edit the chapters + write the little bit thats left. i also want to mention that id love to take widomauk requests, so feel free to send some to my [writing blog](http://bastardprivilege.tumblr.com) and, if i have the motivation, ill write them ! while i like other ships, i dont really feel like i have enough of a grasp on the characters to be comfortable writing them extensively


	2. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly finds out about Caleb's "ability" and makes a surprising offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of a shorter chapter, but it felt like a good stopping point !

Caleb was burning with questions, but then Jester had won the match and the steering wheel was being passed to him, so he had no choice but to take it - holding it as carefully as he could to avoid melting it - and start selecting his character. He ended up choosing Dry Bones at random, watching as Fjord and Yasha chose their characters - Bowser and Rosalina, respectively. The two argued for a moment over the course (Caleb, when asked, stated that he was fine with whatever) before picking Maple Treeway.

And then they were off.

Caleb, admittedly, found it extremely hard to focus on the race. His mind was buzzing - how the hell could Molly touch him? Was he going crazy? Maybe the entire time he could've been touched and- no, a glance at Jester's burns and the ones on the couch reassured him that that wasn't it. Okay. So it was something about Molly himself. But what? Caleb had researched feverishly, but he had never heard of any kind of magic or genetic anomaly or what have you that could leave someone completely immune to the fire in his veins.

He jumped as Molly nudged his shoulder. “Caleb, dear? Your steering wheel is melting.” The tiefling looked confused, maybe a little worried, as he pointed one clawed finger at the now steaming controller.

“Oh- _scheisse_!” He half-threw the wheel onto the coffee table. Dimly, he noticed Fjord pause the game - and at the same time realized he had been cruising along in sixth place, which wasn't as bad as it could've been, but a little pathetic when you considered that nine out of the twelve players were NPCs.

“Are you alright? You didn't get burned, did you?” Molly gently took Caleb's hands in his own, inspecting the redhead's gloves for any obvious scorch marks, and Caleb flushed pink.

“I- um, _nein_ , no, I did not get burned. That was, ah... _my_ fire. Things burn when I touch them.” Caleb couldn't see Molly's reaction, as he had turned his gaze towards the floor, but he felt Molly's grip on his hands shift.

“I'm not getting burned.” Caleb could practically hear a puzzled frown in Molly's voice. “But-” there was a pause, and a soft _oh_. “Is that where your scars are from, Jester?”

“Mhm!” Jester hummed from across the room. “It's not Caleb's fault, though. I tried to hug him. More than once.”

“I see. And, your thing about being touched?” Molly's voice was much more gentle than Caleb had expected.

He didn't deserve this. He was a monster, he had hurt Jester, he had-

-he was jerked out of his thoughts by Molly rubbing small circles into his hand with his thumb. He could barely feel it through his glove, but it didn't stop him from letting out a soft noise.

“Jester- Jester covered for me,” Caleb admitted. “I do not like people knowing about my…” Ability? Curse? What the hell was he supposed to call it?

“If you've got a problem with my boy..." Nott began, and although Caleb couldn't see, he could imagine her rising up, ready to fistfight the tiefling, who was probably twice her size at _least_.

“No problem here. I just want to make sure I have my facts straight.” With that, Molly released Caleb's hands, and Caleb felt an _ache_.

Gods. He had gone how many years now without touch and he had survived just fine, and now suddenly it was all that he wanted. All that he _needed_.

"Do you have any idea  _how_ you're immune?" Fjord's voice rumbled, steady as always. Caleb felt a sudden surge of fondness for the half-orc. He was like a rock, a beacon of calm even when nothing else made sense. Even now he kept the conversation anchored, practical.

"No clue. I was wondering if it was because of tieflings' natural resistance to fire, but I assume that's not the case..?" Molly's voice was tight, like he was thinking hard, but nobody pushed it. There was a pause before he continued, “I'll let you guys get back to your game now, though.” Then he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper that only Caleb could hear. “Could we talk later?”

That wasn't ominous at all. “ _J-ja_ , sure,” Caleb managed, and he glanced up to see Molly pull away with what looked to be a satisfied grin.

"Good man." He patted Caleb on the shoulder, and after a few deep breaths to ground himself, Caleb carefully picked the steering wheel back up.

The game passed as expected - Caleb tried harder to focus, but he was too far behind in the first race to catch up, and even though he did decently in the next few races, it wasn't enough to help him pull past fourth place. Yasha ended up in first, celebrating her victory with a small smile. This, of course, was greeted with the gentle teasing of, "wow, Yasha, I've never seen you look so happy before," and others along that line of thought; to all of which she only shrugged in response.

Caleb passed the steering wheel to Beau, and as he did Molly stood up and stretched, loudly announcing, “I'm gonna get more food. Wanna come with, Caleb?” He gave Caleb a pointed look - apparently  _later_ meant  _now_.

“There are still snacks in here-” Nott started to point out, but Caleb interrupted.

“Yes. I will go with you.” He stood, following Molly into the kitchen, and gave Nott an _I'll explain later_ look in response to her confused stare.

Molly was sitting on the countertop when Caleb came in, and Caleb followed suit, lifting himself onto the island counter across from him. “You wished to talk?” He prompted after a moment of silence, nervous gloved fingers tapping a rhythm onto his knee as he spoke.

“Yeah, I did. I want to help you.” Molly started, and at Caleb's perplexed stare, he continued, “not a lot of people can touch you, and unless I'm misreading, you _do_ want to be touched. And I'm the only person - I think? - that can touch you.” Before Caleb could process it fully, the tiefling was rambling on. “We don't have to make it weird or anything. I'm not asking you to date me. But if you want any kind of cuddling, or hand-holding, or…” he trailed off. “I'd be happy to provide. What do you say?”

“What?” Oh, so many different ideas were swirling through Caleb's mind - it almost _hurt_ , thinking that hard, and he noticed that his hands were beginning to shake.

“I hope you're not going to make me repeat all that,” Molly joked - at least, Caleb _thought_ it was a joke.

“I- um- thank you, really, but I cannot ask you to do that. I do not need your pity.” The words choked Caleb on the way out, but he felt resolved in his decision. It was for the best. No one would get hurt this way. Molly wouldn't have to touch a freak like him.

Molly looked confused, to say the least. Then he barked out a laugh. “You're not _asking_ me to do anything, Caleb. I _want_ to do this. I can't believe you haven't noticed, but you're extremely attractive. It'd be a privilege to touch you.”

Caleb ducked his head, hiding the fierce blush spreading like fire across his cheeks. “You do not have to lie to me.”

“Caleb.” He heard Molly slide off of the counter, and he felt a gentle hand on his knee. “I'm not lying. What do I have to do to prove it to you? What should I swear on? My own gr-” Molly stopped suddenly, and stumbled over his recovery. “I'll swear on anything to get you to believe me.”

Caleb's breath hitched in his throat. “I-I, uh… please, can you give me time to think about it?” He finally managed to get out.

“Of course.” Molly's smile was gentle, oh so gentle, and he carefully, hesitantly - giving Caleb time to refuse - moved to brush a few strands of hair out of the redhead's eyes. “Take all the time you need. How about I give you my number, and you can text me when you make a decision?” Caleb nodded, and he continued, “would you mind handing me your phone, then? I think if I gave you a scrap of paper it would burn up.” His tone was light, teasing.

“ _Ja_ , sure, of course,” Caleb fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and handing it over. He leaned forward, watching as Molly punched in a number and set his contact name, before typing in 'Hey’ and hitting Send.

“Just so I have your number, too,” Molly explained, and Caleb heard a faint buzz from the tiefling's jacket pocket. Then he pressed the phone back into Caleb's hand. “Want to head back to the others, now?”

Caleb managed a nod. “Let's go.” With that, he slid off of the countertop, trailing after Molly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feel free to let me know if i made any errors - i did edit it some, but you never know ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> and also, feel free to hit me up on my [main blog](http://bastardmutual.tumblr.com) or [writing blog](http://bastardprivilege.tumblr.com) to talk about critical role, send prompts, or anything else you have to say !


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